Overshadowed: The Forgotten Marauder
by sofia.estrella
Summary: Peter Pettigrew is always the last Marauder to be listed, if he's not forgotten entirely. He's at a loss to understand why—as the mastermind behind most of their pranks, he considers himself to be rather important. True, it's always James and Sirius that pull them off, but Peter is the schemer. That's his role. Now if he could only earn some recognition for it someday…


I hate Monica. And hate is not too strong of a word; it's an accurate one.

She thinks that just because she's in fifth year now, and a lousy prefect, she can boss me around. I almost hope I don't get put into Gryffindor just so I won't have to put up with her. But I don't think I'm smart enough to be a Ravenclaw… or at least that's what Monica told me. On the way to King's Cross she was trying to convince me that I won't be put into any house because I'm an inferior human being, or something to that effect. Of course my parents failed to hear that, but noticed when I hit her.

Anyway, no one wants to be in Slytherin. The whole lot of them are evil psychopaths. Again, according to Monica. I know I probably shouldn't listen to a word she says, but I have no one else! Mum is a Muggle and Dad refuses to tell me anything because it'll "ruin the experience."

And then there's Hufflepuff. To my understanding, that's where they put people who don't measure up to any other house. So maybe I'll be a Hufflepuff.

"Peter," Mum says suddenly, grabbing my arm to get my attention. I'm a little distracted because we're on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters and I've never been here before and there's people everywhere and—

"Peter!" Monica says, louder than Mum, and rapping on my head. "Pay attention."

Just because she's a stupid prefect doesn't mean she can tell me what to do. I voice this to her, hating how whiny my voice sounds.

"Uh, actually it does," she says, rolling her eyes. She gives Mum and Dad a quick hug and scurries off to her "friends." I have a theory they're not actually her friends, because, well… who would be friends with _her_? Well, she has one friend who lives near to us, and they used to hold me hostage and put makeup on me and paint my nails and stuff like that. I know—my sister is a psycho. I assume all her "friends" must be, too.

"Seriously, do we have to put you on ADHD medication?" Mum says.

I turn back to her. "What's ADHD?" A boy with a caged owl walks by and my head swivels as he passes by.

Mum mutters something to Dad and he laughs.

"Alright, Pete," he says, putting a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Have a good year. You'll love Hogwarts. We'll write you as much as you want us to."

I smile and give each of them a hug. They go back through the wall, out into the Muggle train station. Now I just have to find somewhere to sit… and I don't know _anybody _besides Monica and her crazy friends. It feels like my heart is sinking into my stomach as I walk into the train. They all know each other… I have to find some other first years. Or an empty compartment. I drag my luggage behind me.

Down the hall a bit, a first-year redheaded girl is storming out of a compartment, looking rather angry. A pale boy with black hair—he looks the same age as her—follows her like a lost puppy. How do even the first-years know one another? It's not fair! I peek into the compartment they just left from. It's empty apart from two boys—they look small enough to be my age—who are chatting animatedly. Does everyone have friends except me?

I slip into the room and sit across from them on the bench. They glance at me for a moment, appraisingly, then turn back to each other. Both the boys have dark hair—one short and messy, the other long and sleek—and are taller than me. I can tell this even though we're all sitting. Then again, most people are taller than me.

After a while, one of them, the one with glasses, pulls out a piece of candy and offers it to me.

"You want some?" says the other boy, the one with long hair.

The boy with glasses starts laughing for some reason or another, and is elbowed hard by his friend.

I cautiously take the piece of candy, having caught on to what they're doing. "It's a good idea," I tell them, "but you're way too obvious."

Enjoying their awed expressions, I unwrap the candy and throw it to the floor. It explodes in a puff of smoke. That would've hurt inside my mouth…

"If you have anymore, I can help you with an actual prank," I offer.

The two exchange a glance, and nod. What, can they read minds?

"I'm James," says the boy with glasses.

"Sirius," says the other.

"I'm Peter."

James pulls out a paper bag and dumps its contents onto the bench between him and Sirius. "I don't know what all these do, but that's half the fun of it, right?"

Sirius laughs. "So what's the plan, Peter?"

"Well…" I lean back in on the bench and give it some thought. A candy trolley passes and a smile spreads across my face. "I've got it. We need… a distraction. A diversion. That's most important."

"Got it covered," Sirius says. "Who am I distracting?"

"The candy lady."

James grins. "This sounds like a good prank. Who are we targeting?"

Hmm. I didn't think of that. I've never really targeted anyone (except Monica) out of malice.

"How about Snivellus?" Sirius smiles crookedly, a glint in his gray eyes.

"You're a genius!" James exclaims. "Perfect. So what's next?"

"Well, I don't know if we can target a specific person with this type of prank…" I admit.

"Oh." James's face falls momentarily before lighting back up again. "So more of a random attack?"

"Yeah," I agree. "Who's Snivellus?"

"This slimy haired git," James says dismissively. "Anyway… what's next in the plan?"

"Unwrap one of those pieces of candy," I instruct. He eagerly does as he's told. I crane my head to look out the window. "Okay, she's coming back. Ready, Sirius?"

He nods and stands up. The three of us go into the hall and meet the candy trolley. I give a nod to Sirius. He goes to the candy lady and begins asking what's in every piece of candy. James and I snort in laughter.

"No, no, I'm allergic to peanuts," Sirius says thoughtfully. "What's in this red one?"

James, as per my directions, unwraps a piece of candy from the trolley and switches it with the trick candy. He positions it perfectly on top of the pile so it will be the first piece some unfortunate kid will take.

"But I'm allergic to cocoa beans," Sirius is saying.

The candy lady sighs. "Is there anything you aren't allergic to?"

James gives Sirius the thumbs-up.

"Never mind, I'm not hungry," he tells her and comes back to us. We trail the candy trolley as it makes its rounds in great anticipation. Finally, some unlucky girl—looks to be a couple years older than us—buys the piece of candy. James is already sniggering, and Sirius elbows him again. She goes back toward her compartment and then inside of it.

We casually walk toward the room. We've only taken a couple steps when she comes bursting out the door. Her tongue has enlarged grossly and is lolling out of her mouth, trailing nearly to the floor as she runs around in a panic. The three of us almost collapse in laughter. By the time we return to our compartment, it seems like we've been friends for years.


End file.
